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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29490363">Don't Change, Not Yet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/piraterea/pseuds/piraterea'>piraterea</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Riverdale (TV 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:07:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,644</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29490363</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/piraterea/pseuds/piraterea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"The calls kept happening again, and again. But the first call was the only time she heard his voice. She usually got a call from him only once a month. They never tried to say anything, tried to make up for anything. Jughead would call when the moon had been up for at least a solid hour, and Betty would answer. She would always answer. Then they would sit, thousands of miles away, yet together."</p>
<p>or- during the time jump, Jughead and Betty call one another until there fateful reunion in Riverdale.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Don't Change, Not Yet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>im trash but so is riverdale so here I am</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been seven years since they had last seen each other. So much had changed. Jughead was a published author, and his beanie was long forgotten. Betty was an FBI agent and no longer wore her hair up in her signature ponytail. It now hung low by her hips. It was longer than Jughead had remembered it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jughead saw Betty first. He had gotten off his bus and walked the remainder of the way to town. As Archie had said on the phone, the town was one large dumpster fire. Jughead would be surprised if there was even anything salvageable in this big heap of nothing. But the one thing that managed to stay the same was Pop’s. That was where he saw her. She seemed to be the first one there of the people that Archie called. Jughead distantly wondered if Archie called her first.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She was talking to Pop Tate and she was as gorgeous as ever. In fact, seven years did her unexplainable favors. Even at 25 now, she seemed to radiate a youthful glow that should have been distinguished many years before.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was walking up the parking lot and couldn’t seem to move his eyes from what he could see of her. But he knew in the back of his head, no matter how much he reached for her, he could never have her. She was always just out of reach. And he didn’t even know if she was reaching for him either.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When he opened the door and the familiar bell rung, that’s when she saw him. She turned, her hair swinging with her body, and her eyes sat on his. He expected something to happen. Like how they describe it in the books. The fireworks or the electricity. But all her saw were her eyes. Even when everything else had changed around them, her eyes stayed the same. The same warm, inviting eyes that he fell in love with ten years ago.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Betty didn’t expect to see Jughead when she turned at the sound of the bell. But there he was. He looked so different, yet exactly the same. His beanie was nowhere in sight and he had light stubble growing just above his lips. Betty feels an involuntary sigh escape her body at the sight. It was still Jughead. He may have different style clothing, and be a published author now, but she also saw the stiff, awkward shoulders and the guarded eyes. She used to see it every time they went out somewhere together. Social anxiety.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Betty. Hi” he mutters and she nods. Not Betts, or Juliet anymore. Just Betty. She couldn’t say she blamed him. The last time she had even heard his voice was six years ago. It was a year after they had all departed Riverdale and late into the night. She was studying when she got the call.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Assuming something bad had happened, Betty picked up the phone. But all she got on the other end was a drunk Jughead. He rambled to her about god knows what. Betty wasn’t even sure he knew he was talking to her until he said her name. “Betty?”. His voice sounded so broken when so said it, yet so full of hope. Like one large, thousand-piece puzzle. He was shattered, but there was the hope of being put back together again. Only to be broken once again and shoved away to collect dust. It had hurt her to hear him like that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But she responded. She had said, “Yes, Jug?”. She whispered it, as if scared to loud of a noise would scare him away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I love you”.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That was all he said. After he uttered those three forbidden words, the line was silent for a deafening two minutes. Betty didn’t dare hang up the phone, dangling on that last thread of hope that he would say something else. Anything at all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But he didn’t. The line stayed quiet for two hours before she fell asleep. Even though not a word or noise was heard, Betty knew he was there. Even drunk, Jughead had sat by his phone, listening to her faint breathing, knowing she was there too.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The calls kept happening again, and again. But the first call <em>was </em>the only time she heard his voice. She usually got a call from him only once a month. They never tried to say anything, tried to make up for anything. Jughead would call when the moon had been up for at least a solid hour, and Betty would answer. She would always answer. Then they would sit, thousands of miles away, yet together.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It wasn’t as tensed as the first time, as the numbers of calls slowly grew. Betty would occasionally pick up a book, or she would listen to the soft clicking of Jughead’s typewriter as he wrote. Betty distantly wondered if that was the typewriter that she gifted to him that he was writing with. Jughead would work on his book, knowing his inspiration was so far away from him, yet right there as well. When the time grew on the line, Jughead would occasionally hear Betty humming to herself. It was a beautiful sound, one that would have small colorful birds singing back in some invisible fairy tale land.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was a soft calm between them during these calls. And yet, even though they didn’t speak a single word into their phones, they would count down the minutes that they could call again, and miss each other when the phone hung up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Neither directly hung up on one another. Sometimes, Jughead would stay awake longer than Betty and hear the soft sighs of her sleep. Or when Betty stayed awake longer, she could hear Jughead’s incoherent mumbling on the other end. But she could never make out any words. When the calls ended, it was usually because a phone was dead in the morning.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This routine lasted for five years. It started one year after they all left, and ended suddenly one year before they all returned to Riverdale.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Betty never received a reason for the sudden ghosting, if that’s something she could even call whatever’s been going on between her and Jughead, and she felt no need to ask. Maybe it was better that way, she thought, having no idea that was what Jughead had thought to himself before she stopped calling.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now, here they are. Standing before one another once again, feeling more connected than they should.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, Jughead”.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Neither one makes any move to say anything else, or more any closer. They simply studied one another.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Finally, it’s Jughead who breaks the silence. He nervously clears his throat and narrow his eyes. “Archie call you?”, he asks. He doesn’t break eye contact with her once as he spoke, and she doesn’t attempt to either.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, this was the first time I’ve heard from him since he left for the army” she agrees, and shoves her hands in her pocket nervously.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jughead felt a small, guilty amount of pride at that. That’s he’s heard from her more than Archie. That maybe, just maybe, she still loved him just as much as he loved her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Six years ago, may have been the last time betty has heard Jughead’s voice, but it wasn’t the last time Jughead heard Betty’s. About three years into their calls, he heard her voice once again. He was asleep and woke up. It had been late into the night, maybe two in the morning. She must have assumed he was still asleep, because she was talking very fast and very much to him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“… and I’ve been lying to my therapist, and everyone about it. My own mom doesn’t even know. Does that make me a bad person? Not telling my <em>mother </em>about something like this?” she clearly didn’t expect an answer, as that was the only logical reasoning for why she was talking at all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jughead now wished he had answered her. Or said something, anything. He had learnt what she meant a month later in the news. The Trash Bag Killer. From what he read, the guy had her for a few weeks at most. At some point, he had to just stop reading.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Even with the minimal makeup Betty wore now, he could see the bags hidden under her eyes. She could hide anything from anyone, but not from him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Me too. It’s been radio silence from everyone. Except, well…” he says. Betty answers quick and sharp, “Yeah, I know”. Her tone clearly conveyed she didn’t want to talk about it. Which was fine with him, because he wasn’t exactly in a Chatty Cathy mood about that particular subject.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What about Veronica, you heard from her?” Jughead asks, and Betty shakes her head. Unsure of himself, he moves around and pulls himself into a booth. “Can I get you anything?” the waitress, her name tag read Tabitha, asked. Jughead could swear that name sounded familiar.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, I’m good. Thanks” Jughead mutters as Betty sits beside him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No burger anymore, Jones?” Betty asks and he rolls his eyes. “Things change” he whispers simply.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, I know” she replies, copying his simple tone. It frustrated him and he didn’t know why. They both equally gave up one each other. Yet there was a nagging feeling in the back of his head asking one question. If they gave up, then why keep calling? Why keep answering?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When night fell and they all went their separate ways, Betty didn’t expect the call from Jughead. After all, they had just seen one another again. It would make no sense for him to call her. Yet, as Betty was dusting off a cup from the kitchen cabinet, her phone rang.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And, without hesitation, she picked it up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They supposed, the entire world could change, but they wouldn’t.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>The End</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>so, indulge me on just how trashy I am. I need to know.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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